


Iron Ass vs. Captain Dickhead (or How Civil War Should Have Gone)

by dgdreamer



Series: The End is the Beginning [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Women, Conflict Resolution, F/M, How Civil War Should Have Been Settled, M/M, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Tony Stark Does What He Wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 20:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dgdreamer/pseuds/dgdreamer
Summary: Tony and Steve have a leadership conflict and won't deal with it in a mature way. Lauren decides that enough is enough and takes matters into her own hands. Her conflict resolution style might be unorthodox, but it gets the job done.





	Iron Ass vs. Captain Dickhead (or How Civil War Should Have Gone)

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me when my kids were talking about one particular day when I took an unconventional approach to sibling disagreement. It has always seemed to me that what Tony and Steve needed during their discussion of the Accords was one woman who would beat their stubborn asses if they didn't stop with the posturing and talk. Of course, that's just my theory. You can disagree if you want. 
> 
> So enjoy this little piece of the universe that exists in my mind while I work out a larger, more plot driven, story that will connect to all of these little episodes.

“Dammit, Stark, how many times do you have to be told…” Steve was using his best Captain America voice paired with the Eyebrows of Disappointment (trademark pending) as he faced down his teammate. His uncharacteristic cursing evidence of how long this particular battle of wills had been going on.

“I heard you the first time, and every other time, Spangles, I just happen to disagree with you,” Tony dismissed him with a casual flick of his fingers as he made his way to the bar.

Steve’s voice lowered almost to a growl as he followed the smaller man across the room, “When we’re in the field, I’m in charge. You can’t disobey an order.”

“There’s only one place I take orders, Cap, and it isn’t in the field,” Tony smirked back with an inviting lift of his brows.

“Innuendo? That’s what you’re going with right now?” Steve’s face flushed crimson, whether from anger or embarrassment, it was hard to tell.

“What are you so worked up about, Rogers? We won! And we all got back in one piece,” Tony grimaced just slightly as he noticed Clint shuffling in on crutches, “or mostly in one piece.”

“You can’t just go off and do your own thing, Stark, not without letting someone know what you’re going to do first. You almost compromised the entire mission.” Steve’s voice rose a fraction in frustration.

“There wasn’t time, Captain Perfect. I saw a problem and I reacted. That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? Or can you not keep up with me, old man.” Tony’s voice hitched higher, reacting to the other man’s tone.

Some of the words might have been new, but the argument was getting old and tired, and Lauren hadn’t been dealing with it for nearly as long as everyone else. She understood going in that things had never been easy between Tony and Steve in private, although in their Iron Man and Captain America personas it was rarely evident. Anything that happened in the field took priority to their personal differences, immediate threat taking precedence, although there was always an undercurrent that pulled at the team even at the worst of times. The clashes would never happen where they might be seen by the public, no, the two of them always waited until they were back home, to the Tower, before they tore into one another. It had been bad enough when Lauren had first taken on her role as the team’s handler (read “nanny”), but the disagreements had increased in intensity and frequency as the weeks passed.

At first, the squabbles had been minor, usually amounting to high school level taunts. Tony might make a  crack about getting with the times, or Steve might throw in a passing comment about civilians and vigilantes. There was no open hostility, but verbal blows often landed close enough to sensitive topics so that one or the other would immediately go on the defensive and return the words in kind. When there was a conflict on a mission or in the middle of a battle with the supervillain de jour, then it would become more and more heated until they both retreated, Tony to his workshop to do some heavy lifting on his latest suit and Steve to the gym to do his best to destroy all of the punching bags that had been delivered since the last explosion.

Family dinners and movie nights had been canceled, or moved to someone’s private apartment where the event was invitation only, and never included the two team leaders at the same time. Team training was sporadic at best, and usually not attended by Stark at all, which only fueled Steve’s irritation. Everyone was doing their best to avoid everyone else for the most part, and very careful to keep the conversation neutral when they were together so no one could be accused of choosing sides. No matter how they privately felt, it wasn’t going to do any good for anyone to join the ranks of Team Cap or Team Iron Man.

Laruen had done her best to bring the two men together to discuss their differences and come to a reasonable conclusion. First she brought them into her office, trying to have a professional conversation about the issues and the ways they could address them. It had ended with Tony flouncing out in a huff, resentful of being “handled,” and Steve somewhat angry at feeling like he had been called to the principal’s office. When she realized that an adult conversation wasn’t going to happen, she had tried the “actions and consequences” approach, enlisting the help of Pepper and Natasha to lock one man out of his lab and confiscate the other’s motorcycle until they had apologized to one another. Technically, the apologies happened, but they were each delivered through FRIDAY and not in person. Since then, Lauren had resorted to standing between them when things got so heated they both looked like posturing alphas from one of the fanfiction stories she was starting to love. She would put a hand to each of their chests, shoving them backward (okay, shoving Tony a LOT further backward than she did Steve, but give her a break… have you seen him?) and sending them to their neutral corners. Tonight, though, it was just too much. Clint and Natasha had been caught in the crossfire, huddling in a crumbling building as it began to crash down around them. Only the appearance of Hulk had allowed them to escape with a few scrapes and bruises. Clint’s broken ankle had happened when he tripped over some of the rubble lying in the street.

Closing her eyes and straightening her spine on a deep exhale, Lauren forced herself into an appearance of calm that she didn’t really feel. If she had to admit it to anyone, she would have said that she didn’t know what she wanted to do more, run from the room screaming and throwing things or beat the two men who were squabbling like children to a bloody pulp. Neither of those choices would get any results and would definitely earn her some quality time on the receiving end one of Coulson’s best “I expected better from you” lectures. But desperate times and all that… If this worked, then she actually was a genius, and if it didn’t, she could be happy knowing that she would be buried in paperwork for so long that she’d never need to worry about facing another human being again.

“You, Iron Ass” Lauren pointed at Tony sharply snapping her voice with just a slight edge, “put the suit back on, now.”

“And you, Captain Dickhead,” Lauren shifted her attention to Steve, her tone not changing “grab the shield.”

Both men opened their mouths as if to argue or reprimand her for the insults. Lauren silenced them with one upraised hand. “If either of you open your mouths, I promise you, I will find a way to end you. Slowly, quietly, and painfully.”

They complied with her demands immediately, seeing something in her eyes that warned them against contradicting her.

“Now, we are going to the training gym. I won’t do this here since the team doesn’t need to suffer any more, and I like this room. While we go downstairs, you two will not speak to me or to one another. You will not look at me or one another. You will not even think about speaking or looking. Have I made myself clear?” Lauren looked first into blue eyes, then brown ones, seeing questioning acquiescence in each.

Almost unbelievably, they made the short trip to the gym without incident. Lauren was too exasperated with them to focus on anything other than what she planned to do and say once they reached their destination, and the men were too surprised and wary to do anything other than what they were told. They followed her out of the elevator, through the double doors, and into the middle of the open gym floor, the only sounds were those of their footfalls as they echoed in the empty space. When she stopped, so did they, coming to rest behind her, one on each side. She spun on her heel, taking the men by the arm and shifting them until they were face to face, less than two feet apart. Her movements were strong, but more resolute than angry. She tried to force her voice to steadiness when she spoke next.

“I have had all I’m going to take with you two. I don’t know why you can’t keep from being at each other’s throats, but I’m done watching and listening, and I’m not going to let you pull the rest of the team into it. So here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to leave this room. You two are going to stay here. I don’t care what you do with that time. You can fight. You can fuck. Or you can just stand there and stare at each other for all I care. But know this. Whatever you decide, be prepared for it to be posted online for the entire world to see. I am recording this. And don’t even think, Stark… FRIDAY isn’t involved, so you can’t override. When you are done, I am going to take that video, and I’m going to show the world how “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes” settle their differences. The feed is being sent upstairs as we speak. And, just so you know that I am prepared, I already have a title, ‘Civil War: Iron Ass vs. Captain Dickhead’ – suitable for all occasions, don’t you think? So please, whatever you do, make it good. Your public deserves it.”

During this quiet tirade, Tony and Steve had alternated between looking at her and at one another in shock, confusion, and disbelief. If Lauren had looked closely enough at them, she might have caught a glimpse of the _“Did she really just say that?”_ look that was exchanged during her speech. But she wasn’t looking at them, and they were smart enough not to say anything that might make matters worse for them. Lauren let go of their arms as she turned toward the double doors leading out of the room.

“Now, gentlemen, I’m going to figure out what reports I’ll need to be ready to file when you decide how this is going to end.” She stopped just at the doors, giving them a hard glare. “And this will end. Tonight. Capiche?” Lauren didn’t wait for their response.

___

Once the elevator doors closed, Lauren let out a long breath.  She had put her over the top plan into action, and now she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. Part of her speech had been prepared, but she found that once she opened her mouth words she’d never planned to say had just leapt out. How she was going to look anyone in the eye for the next few hours, or even days for that matter, was beyond her. There was no going back now. What was said and done was done, and now she just needed to wait for the results. One part of her wanted to find a quiet place to hide, and wait for the fallout of her intervention. She also wanted to go back in there and watch them beat the shit out of each other, just to feel some vindication about needed to give them both a swift kick in the (oh, so well filled out, but metaphorical) pants to get their attention. Another part of her wanted to just go back to her apartment, pack all her personal belongings, and get the hell out of the Tower and New York. Maybe peace and sanity could be found somewhere out there. Instead of doing any of these things, she punched the button for the common room floor.

Seeing, but not turning toward the rest of the team who had gathered in front of the giant television screen to watch the feed from the gym, Lauren made her way to the bar with purposeful strides. She reached for the decanter of bourbon and poured a healthy tumblerful, knocking it back in one shot. She winced slightly, but the burn of the liquor was welcome. She smacked the empty glass on the bar and hung her head, arms stretched to the side and hands resting on the edge of the smooth surface.

“Did I really just do that?” she questioned to herself.

“Yeah, you did, doll,” Bucky huffed a short laugh, “never seen the punk stop arguing with anybody that fast. Think you might have found your superpower.”

Lauren took the time to pour another drink, this one just slightly smaller than her first. She took a sip before she blew out another breath. “Just tell me they aren’t killing each other right now,” she groaned.

“They’re not killing each other.”

Something in Sam’s tone made Lauren turn around to see what was happening. All eyes were on the monitor, which showed something she never thought she’d see. Instead of bloodshed or every “Stony” shippers fantasy come to life, Lauren saw the two men laughing. It looked like each of them was on the verge of going into full-fledged hysterics. Lauren couldn’t believe her eyes.

“What happened?” Lauren moved toward the group, almost ready to chuckle herself just watching the two break down again.

“It’s not a therapy approach I would have recommended, but it seems to have worked,” Sam finally looked up at her with barely concealed glee.  “After you walked out, they did say a word for a while. Just stared daggers at each other.  Then, Stark… well, why don’t you just watch it.” He handed her a StarkPad that had been lying on the table, still watching the silent feed. “We muted the audio when we heard you coming, didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“You’re a little shit, Wilson, you know that?” Lauren mock-scowled at him as she moved to sit on the arm of his chair, pulling up the recording. It started with her closing lines:

_“The feed is being sent to the common room as we speak. And, just so you know that I am prepared, I already have a title, ‘Civil War: Iron Ass vs. Captain Dickhead’ – suitable for all occasions, don’t you think? So please, whatever you do, make it good. Your public deserves it.”_

She watched herself turn from the two men who remained with their bodies facing one another, but their heads turned to watch her exit. When the door had closed behind her with a snick, they turned their attention back to one another. Neither moved for almost half a minute, the tension between them almost shimmering in the air. Then with a twist of his lips, Tony spoke:

            _“So, what’s it gonna be Cap? ‘Cause I’m slightly overdressed for at least one of those options.”_

_“Did she really just tell us to…”_

_“She did. Pretty good for pure shock value. Very creative.”_

_“Do you really think she’ll…”_

_“She was seriously pissed. Wouldn’t put it past her.”_

_“I haven’t seen a dame that mad since Mrs. Barnes caught Bucky with the Anderson sisters.”_

At this point, Tony’s eye began to twitch, then he burst into laughter.

_“You’d better hope she didn’t hear that. You’ll be in for another lecture on feminism and proper terms for twenty-first century women.”_

Steve had the good sense to look sheepish, scrubbing his hand across the back of his neck and chuckling.

            _“Yeah. That first one reminded me of the nuns back in school. This does too.”_

            _“Do you really think a nun would have told us to fuck?”_

It took seconds for Steve to process what he’d said, and then he too threw back his head,

            _“No….but she had that same look in her eye.”_

_“I wonder if she ever went undercover in a pre-school. She had to learn that from somewhere.”_

_“She said something once about Coulson and Supernanny. Do you think that’s it?”_

_“I don’t think this particular method of conflict resolution would be approved by either. I think this was all her.”_

_“I think she’s been hanging out with Natasha.”_

_“We are surrounded by some very scary women, Captain Dickhead.”_

_“That we are, Iron Ass. ”_

They looked at one another very seriously for a few seconds, and then burst into peals of laughter. Something about the situation hitting each of them so funny that they couldn’t stop. They carried on for several minutes, almost calming down until they looked at one another again, which sent them right back into loud guffaws. Lauren scrolled past most of this quickly. When she was done, the recording on the tablet had caught up with the live feed and they were finally calming themselves down. Steve, slightly bent with his hand resting on his chest and doing his best to recover his composure, looked down at Tony who seemed to be thinking out loud:

_“I wonder how much trouble we’re still in.”_

_“Plenty. I think we’ve got some apologizing to do.”_

_“You more than me. You know she heard you calling her a ‘dame’.”_

_“And we still need to talk about following orders in the field.”_

_“How about this. You tell me what to do, I’ll change things when I need to and give you a heads up when I can. You can yell at me later if something goes wrong.”_

_“You mean when something goes wrong.”_

_“Don’t start, Cap, remember, she’s watching and if we screw the pooch now, she might come down here and take down both of our asses.”_

They exchanged a look that said what neither could voice out loud. Peace had been made. The team needed to come first, and any disagreements they might have needed to be handled in a far more mature way.  For the first time in weeks, Lauren felt that things would be moving back towards normal. The relationship between the two men would always be difficult, but things would work for the time being. As if seeking her permission, both men looked to the cameras mounted around the room, questions in their eyes. Both jumped slightly when Lauren’s voice cut through the air.

“Well, either kiss and make up, or hit the showers. We debrief in thirty.”

They moved to follow her instructions, and Lauren waited for the remark she was sure would come. When it did, the voice wasn’t the one she expected to hear.

“Sorry, doll,” Steve shot back facing the camera with a smirk, “You and your Stony shippers will be disappointed. Stark ain’t my type.”

____

 

The next morning Lauren walked into her office fully prepared to spend the next few hours reviewing mission reports, handing requisitions, and chasing down one Tony Stark so he could sign the hard copies of everything he’d had FRIDAY file for him electronically. What met her gaze when she opened the door almost made her drop her morning coffee. There in the center of her desk was a large vase overflowing with a mixed arrangement of yellow roses and purple hyacinth. A box of imported chocolates lay next to them with a card folded on top. Lauren reached for the card across the desk, taking in the luxurious scent of the apology bouquet. She opened the card, already having an idea of who these were from. Inside was a small sketch of herself, face drawn in what she recognized as the one she was wearing when she’d dragged two of the Avengers into the elevator. The message beside it was simple:

            _“We won’t do it again. I’m sorry. Captain D.”_

Lauren laughed at the signature. At least he had a sense of humor about her insult. Smiling at the expression Steve had captured in all its indignation, Lauren rounded her desk. It was then that she noticed another envelope propped against her monitor, a pile of reports under it all signed by Tony. Just as she started to open the envelope, a soft chime sounded from her phone and a notification appeared on her screen. It was a meeting request, with an attached appointment confirmation at one of the most exclusive day spas in the city. Wrinkling her forehead, Lauren reached into the envelope. Inside was a single notecard written in a spiky scrawl along with a black AmEx. This note was short and simple, and as close to an apology as she could expect from Tony Stark:

            _“Go crazy. You earned it.”_

“Oh, I will, Mr. Stark,” Lauren muttered stuffing the cards into her bag as she swept out the door, “You can bet your Iron Ass on that!”

**Author's Note:**

> I wonder how much damage Lauren did with that card? I have a big imagination... can we say wardrobe replacement? 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed... and sorry to all those Stony shippers out there. I love the UST between those two, but that relationship would never work out in my mind.


End file.
